Fade to Gray
by Carnael
Summary: Murtagh is tired of working of Galbatorix. When he meets Eragon, he gets sent on a journey of self-discovery. AU Modern Day. Eragon and Murtagh not related. Summary is awful
1. Chapter 1

**Warning**: Contains Mature Content, including prostitutes, sex and other sensitive topics. Also MxM . Don't go into too much detail but if it bothers, you don't read it. Also Eragon and Murtagh are not related and it's and AU modern day fiv.

**Disclaimer Time**: I don't own any characters, those belong to Christopher Paolini. I own the plot. Tis all.

**The Beginning of An End**

Murtagh was the sort of man who looked as if he was in control of his own destiny. We all know that this isn't true; for we are not the puppeteers, and someone else plays the strings. From afar, he seemed to possess a certain strength, a certain grace that put him above the rest. If only they knew. He'd always known he was one screwed up son of a bitch. None of friends ever said it to his face, but he could feel their whispered thoughts. Not that he cared. As a high ranking member of a twisted sort of gang, he didn't have the time to kill every person who thought he was a cruel heartless fucker.

Murtagh woke up with a pounding in his head. After the bottle of vodka he'd felt obligated to chug last night, he was not surprised. With a quick glance at the leggy blonde whose legs were entangled with his, he moved away and glanced about the shabby hotel room in search of his pants. The blonde, it appeared was actually awake, he realized when he felt her hot little tongue lick his dick. He suppressed a moan and pushed her away from him.

With a pout, she crawled back over, giving him a good view of her breasts that looked far too big for her petite body. "Now, don't ruin the fun," she purred, "I'll make it worth your while." She watched with him with wide blue eyes as he raked his thin pale hands through his long, messy, black hair. He raised a single eyebrow. With a whine of desire, she slid her fingers up and down his length, "double what I gave you for last night," she gasped.

With an appraising look, Murtagh flipped her over and set to work. As she moaned and writhed beneath his body, he thought briefly if Thorn would wait up for him. He was going to be late. Galbatorix would be pissed, that is until he found out how much money Murtagh had got off the slutty heiress. No, after tonight he'd be able to only let the ones he liked in his pants. He groaned harshly as he bit her pale creamy shoulder as he came, a few seconds later, he pulled out, cleaned himself up and got dressed. The girl glanced at him as she wrote the check in a flowing cursive. He plucked it out of her fingers before stalking out of the room.

"You're late," growled Thorn. His shoulder length hair was a vivid red. As per usual, he was dressed in black skinnies and an oversized hoodie which swallowed his once full frame. His skin was beyond pale, but he had a certain sort of beauty, like one of a caged and tamed beast, that made him one of the more busy members of Galbatorix's group. He was sitting alone at the busy club Galbatorix owned, a feat that was probably due to the dark look that haunted his face except when he had to do business.

"Sorry," smirked Murtagh, "I was busy fucking that little whore. She offered me double of what I got last night." He glanced quickly about the room, searching for the middle-aged man who ran the joint. "Is he here?" he asked, not bothering to specify who, there was only one man he could be looking for.

"He's in the back with Trianna," Thorn named the blue-eyed, busty whore who currently was Galbatorix's favorite. He turned away to order another shot of tequila.

Murtagh found them right away, Trianna's loud shuddering moans could be heard even through the blasting music, once you got to the edges of the place. He rolled his eyes, of course she wanted all of Galbatorix's girls to know that right now, she was the one who was getting pounded into, not them. He found them in Galbatorix's office. The man had her splayed on her front on top of the smooth mahogany desk.

"Ah, Murtagh, join us," the older man grabbed Trianna by her heaving breasts off of the desk. He leered at the pale lithe man who was grabbing a condom out of the top drawer of the cabinet. He pushed Trianna toward Murtagh, as he peeled off his clothing. She unzipped his tight jeans and pulled them down before reaching out to fondle the man. When he was hard, he slid the condom on and walked over to where Galbatorix was standing.

Murtagh kept his dislike veiled behind a mask as he approached, when his boss nodded at the quivering girl he swiftly grabbed her and buried himself all the way in her, ignoring her scream of pain. He waited until Galbatorix had entered her from behind before commanding her to move. He shut his eyes and waited until it was over. When the other two were spent, he grabbed the check out of his jean pocket and handed it to Galbatorix.

"I'll have your money in the bank tomorrow. You can have the next month to do as you please," Galbatorix said dismissively to his quickly dressing employee. Thank god he was free for the next week. He stopped by Thorn who was getting badgered by a pretty blonde.

He stopped in front of them. A pale youth who looked maybe 17-20 was hovering at the girl's shoulder looking uncomfortable. "Having fun Thorn?" he drawled as he ordered a bottle of vodka, screw glasses.

"No," snapped his friend, looking extremely uncomfortable. He only played nice when there was money involved and he had a feeling that the girl in front of him was not looking for a quickie in the back alley.

"Who's your friend?" he asked in a disinterested tone. He took a swig from his bottle.

A hand touched his shoulder, "her name's Saphira," a familiar voice answered. He glanced back to see an acquaintance from high school. She was tall, slim and had sharp features. Arya. "That's Eragon,"she supplied pointing at the pale boy wearing a beanie who was standing at Saphira's shoulder. They're working on their bucket list."

He swirled the contents of the bottle in his hands. "They've got time. Still young. Don't do everything now, or you'll be bored by the time death comes knocking," he murmured. The trio stiffened before laughing nervously.

"All the time in the world," whispered the boy, Eragon.

**Author's note**: future chapters should have less sexual encounters. Never actually wrote stuff like this before 0.o still figuring out chapter lengths and shit. Hmm see you next time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning**: Contains Mature Content, including prostitutes, sex and other sensitive topics. Also MxM . Don't go into too much detail but if it bothers, you don't read it. Also Eragon and Murtagh are not related and it's and AU modern day fic.

**Disclaimer Time**: I don't own any characters, those belong to Christopher Paolini. I own the plot. Tis all.

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**Booze and Sweat**

Eragon was lying in bed staring at his ceiling. It was really quite interesting, not only did he have a poster of his favorite band, The Killers, tacked up, it was also made of stucco. He could faintly hear his phone buzz, but he really did not want to pick up his phone. Saphira, his best friend, had come up with another one of her award winning ideas. An idea much like the time she had convinced him to lick the metal pole outside his house… in the middle of the winter. In his defense, he had only been 5 and he was much wary when Saphira had an idea.

Downstairs, the phone rang shrilly. He heard his cousin's low voice answer it. "Eragon! Phone," Roran yelled up the stairs. Eragon sighed before slowly getting off his bed and slouched down the stairs.

"Yeah?" he said, already certain it was Saphira. She'd only left atleast 10 messages on his cell as well as several texts.

"Do you ever check you phone?" her bubbly voice asked. He could picture her, sitting in her messy room, a far cry from his neat room. She would have her messy dirty blonde hair piled in a messy ponytail and she would be painting her nails a vivid blue. "Anyways, so you, me and Arya are going out tonight. I am not taking no for an answer," and then the phone was hung up, leaving him with no room to argue.

With a groan, he went upstairs to change. Pausing at the full length mirrorin the hall by the bathroom he stared at his reflection. A pale boy, who looked no younger than 17 but no older than 20, stared back at him. The boy's hair was neatly shorn off leaving a thin layer of dark hair that was so thin that it was impossible to tell if it was black or brown. The serious brown eyes seemed vaguely sad or pensive and were ringed with dark shadows. He looked as if he had once weighed perhaps 20 pounds more, and those 20 pounds had not been baby fat. It'd been muscle and that thin layer of fat that keeps bones from sticking out and each rib from being counted with ease.

Eragon shut his eyes before returning to his room. Months before it had been a wreck, but now he could not remember the last time something had been out of place. Pictures lined the walls. He stopped to pick one up. It was of him, Orik, Arya, Saphira, Roran and Nasuada. He remembered that day, it had been in the summer. Back before the day his world had fallen apart around him.

He slid his blue plaid pajama pants off his thin legs. Suddenly, his body was racked with harsh dry coughs. Doubling over, he waited until the fit was over. When he looked up, he saw Roran standing in the door. His cousin's gray eyes held a look of deep concern but he turned away and left once Eragon had recovered. Carefully, Eragon reached into his closet and removed his least favorite pair of black jeans and gingerly slid them on. He quickly donned a black band t-shirt and the black hoodie Saphira had bought him. He grabbed his hat off the chair by his bedroom door before heading downstairs.

"Are you ok to go out?" Roran asked softly. His brown hair hung in his eyes as he watched the boy he held as brother move slowly past him in the hall. The boy paused and looked back at him, giving a hesitant nod, before heading to the living room.

With a sigh of relief, Eragon collapsed onto the couch by the window before pressing his fingers against the cool glass. As he peered out into the night, he wondered what tomorrow would bring. He never knew what to expect anymore.

**Saphira's POV**

Saphira pulled up to her best friend's house and waved when she saw him framed by soft light in the front window. She idled there on his driveway as the teen walked to the door and hastily out on his favorite converse. She glanced at her other friend, Arya, a girl who was about 3 years older than she and Eragon were. Arya had her forehead pressed against the window as her green eyes darted about the car anxiously.

"Are you sure about this," Arya murmured as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Absolutely, he needs this," Saphira reassured the older girl. All further questions were interrupted when Eragon reached the car, the pale light emphasized her friend's sharp angles and his tired eyes. She backed up and headed back to the highway. Eragon asked no questions. He had grown quiet and withdrawn these days. He looked as if he had given up, his eyes held a look of defeat and acceptance and his posture was of one who had lost their way.

Saphira casually turned on the radio so that the oppressive silence would not be quite so heavy and hummed along to the song that blasted throughout the car. The car ride was quiet and uneventful. When they pulled up to the local club The Forsworn, Arya stiffened slightly.

"Are you alright?" Eragon's low, slightly hoarse voice asked. His brown eyes were trained on Arya's tensed body. Trust him to be concerned about everyone but himself.

Arya quickly smiled, "of course, I just know an old friend from high school who hangs out here a lot." Saphira couldn't help but wonder what kind of person this friend was. She knew she was in no position to ask, Arya relished in her privacy. They exited the car and lined up.

**Back to Eragon**

The night was cool and the breeze gentle as he stood in line with Arya and Saphira. Orik was away visiting his parents or else he probably would be standing here. His Irish friend would never turn down a chance to get wasted and potentially laid. The line moved quickly and after showing the bouncer their I.D.'s they were admitted.

Eragon immediately felt bile rise in his throat. The room was dark with flashing strobe lights of all colours occasionally lighting up parts of the room. It smelt faintly of sweat and alcohol. He quickly excused himself from his friends and headed to where he knew the bathroom was located where he promptly dissolved in a fit of coughs. When this fit had passed, he glanced at his pale, thin fingers and detachedly stared at the dark crimson blood that now stained his hand. Eragon stared at himself in the mirror before quickly washing away the blood.

As soon he left the relative quiet of the bathroom, he was immediately assaulted by pounding music and the masses of bodies pressed against one another as they grinded together. As Eragon headed back towards the bar, a pretty girl grabbed his arm and rubbed her barely concealed breasts against his body.

Eragon raised one thin brow, "sorry, I don't swing that way," he whispered in her ear before pushing away from and continued towards where he could clearly see Arya laughing at his exchange.

"The hot and nice ones are always gay, hmm?" she teased her friend. She was dressed in a short black dress with a plunging neckline. Her long legs were accentuated by her high heels. She offered him her drink, which he refused.

"You know I shouldn't be drinking that stuff," he told her. He glanced about looking for Saphira. He caught site of her long wavy hair. She was talking to a thin red head. He appraised the other man, quickly. He was attractive with messy shoulder length hair that made people want to think it was dyed but Eragon could tell it was naturally a vivid red. He was thin and probably not much taller than 5"11. He also looked vaguely annoyed by Saphira's attention.

"What's your name," Saphira asked her voice low and mildly seductive. She was wearing a short white skirt and a leather vest that revealed almost all off her breasts and clearly showed that she was not wearing a bra. Despite her appearance, Saphira still emitted some sort of innocence that was utterly obvious.

Just then a man stalked over to the red headed man. He was utterly gorgeous with messy black hair and a lithe body. He wore a black shirt that clung to his skin. "Who's your friend?" he asked sounding completely uninterested. He was busy drinking a bottle of vodka.

Arya approached him and even in her 6-inch heels she was still a few inches shorter than him. She placed her small hand on his shoulder. "Her name's Saphira," she said before pointing, "That's Eragon." She flipped her long black hair over her shoulder, "they're working on their bucket list," she said with a faint smile.

The stranger swirled the contents of the bottle in his hands. "They've got time. Still young. Don't do everything now, or you'll be bored by the time death comes knocking," he murmured.

Eragon looked at the man uneasily. He glanced at his friends who looked equally uncomfortable. Arya had stepped away from the man. He assumed this was Arya's friend.

"All the time in the world," Eragon whispered, his voice low and hoarse before he turned and grabbed Saphira's drink and drained it.

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**AN**: And here it is Chapter 2 0.o from now on the story will switch back and forth in POV's but wont backtrack as much as this chapter has. I hope you like. Ah everything is shorter once on FF this was 4 pages on word


	3. Notice

**so uh yeah been a while huh? well long story short i hit exam week then my computer haad like a heart attack :( and i haaad all of fade to gray done but y'know it deleted... the ... whole... thing**

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**so yeah...**

**I am trying to get the uh i dunno the blegh motivation to write the whole thing again... and i will i've started again but it might take awhile QQ**

**yeah sorry**

**- Carnael**


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